The grand ballroom was a sea of suspended motion. Hundreds of elite guests, including the powerful heads of the Chen, Zhang, and Wang families, held their crystal flutes mid-air, their eyes anchored on Gu Wei. The sight of him standing in the dead center of the marble floor, flanked by the silver-clad Le Mei and the crimson-clad Jiang Min, was a tableau that screamed "scandal" in the silent language of the upper class.
Behind Wei, the "Unified Alliance" was disintegrating into pure, raw terror. Xu Ling's fingers were trembling so violently that Zhang Hao had to interlace his hand with hers, anchoring her to the spot.
"This is it," Hao thought, his inner monologue a frantic drumbeat. "He's going to announce it. He's going to tell my father I've chosen a Striver over my legacy. I'm dead. We're all dead." He leaned in, whispering into Ling's ear, "Don't, Ling. I'm right here. I won't abandon you." Ling bit her lip, a single tear shimmering in her eye as she gave him a ghost of a smile.
Nearby, Zhao Feng and Wang Shanshan exchanged a look of finality, like soldiers facing a firing squad. Meanwhile, the "Four Statues"—Jia, Bo, Dong, and Lu Wei—were drenched in cold sweat.
"Brother Wei is making this a thousand times worse!" Bo thought, his eyes darting to his father, Chen Jian, who was already looking suspicious. "If he exposes the secret now, there's no turning back. The Gold Circle will be shattered by morning."
Wei ignored the frantic, pleading looks from Mei and Min. With a cool, predatory grace, he signaled a nearby waiter. The young man scurried forward, presenting a wireless microphone on a silver tray.
The room went deathly silent. You could hear the hum of the air conditioning.
"Gu Wei," Chen Jian stepped forward, his voice a mix of authority and concern. "Nephew, what is going on here? Why have you brought these children out like this?"
Wei scanned the room. He saw the judgment, the curiosity, and the hidden daggers in the parents' eyes. He brought the mic to his lips, his expression turning deadly serious.
"Good evening, everyone," Wei's voice projected with a smooth, baritone authority. "Thank you for gathering here to celebrate Le Mei's birthday. But I must address one thing... a shadow that is disturbing this event."
"It's over,"Feng thought, closing his eyes. "We are doomed."
"Oh?" Chen Jian chuckled, looking around at the other parents for reassurance. "What is it, nephew? Tell us. Uncle will take care of it."
Wei let the silence stretch for a painful five seconds. He looked at the trembling couples, then at the terrified "Four." Finally, his gaze landed on Mei and Min. He gave them a lightning-fast, almost imperceptible wink.
"The ones disturbing this event," Wei said, his voice dropping into a stern, lecturing tone, "are all of you. Every single one of you is the reason."
The ballroom erupted in a confused murmur. The "Unified Alliance" stood stunned, their hearts stopping for a different reason.
"What did we do?" Zhang Wei (Hao's father) asked, his brow furrowing. "How are we the reasons?"
Wei stepped forward, his posture relaxing into a charismatic, playful stance. "We are here to celebrate a young lady's coming of age, yet I look around and all I see are business cards and hushed whispers about real estate, stock markets, and mergers. You aren't guests at a birthday party; you're at a boardroom meeting. You are disturbing the joy of the evening with the weight of your work."
A collective sigh of relief swept through the teenagers like a summer breeze. The "Four" almost collapsed where they stood.
"I knew it!" Bo thought, his adrenaline finally receding. "Brother Wei wouldn't hurt us. He's a genius."The parents looked at each other, sheepish smiles breaking across their faces. They nodded, realizing the "Selfish King" had just given them a graceful way to save Mianzi (Face).
"You're right, nephew," Chen Jian laughed, patting his stomach. "We are old men with dusty habits. So, how should we compensate for our 'disturbing' behavior?"
Wei smiled, a brilliant, dazzling expression that captivated the entire room. He looked at Mei, who was beaming at him with stars in her eyes.
"As a junior, I will bear the worries of my elders," Wei said, his voice full of mock-gallantry. "To lighten the mood and return the focus to where it belongs—on beauty and celebration—I will sing a song to celebrate this evening."
The hall erupted in loud applause. The elite clapped, encouraged by the transition from tension to entertainment.
The chandeliers dimmed in a synchronized sweep of golden light, plunging the grand ballroom into a velvet darkness. A single, piercing spotlight cut through the shadows, centering on Gu Wei.
In that moment, he ceased to be a student or a rival; he was a prince of the modern era. His midnight-blue velvet blazer shimmered, catching the dust motes like fallen stars. The room held its breath, a collective silence of the elite, as the first notes of a reimagined, soulful arrangement of "Strolling Through Hong Kong 1999" began to pulse through the high-end speakers.
Wei took a breath, his chest rising steadily. When he began to sing, his voice was a rich, smoky baritone—thick with nostalgia and a hidden, yearning depth. He didn't just stand there; he moved with a slow, feline grace, his steps rhythmic and deliberate.
Le Mei felt her heart stutter. Her inner monologue, usually a sharp calculation of social standing, was reduced to a soft, aching hum. "He's singing to me," she thought, her fingers clutching the silver silk of her gown. "This is our world. The gold, the lights, the history... he's reclaiming it for us."
Across the floor, Jiang Min was equally paralyzed. The crimson of her dress seemed to burn brighter under the reflected glow. Her "Warrior" exterior had completely melted. "No," she whispered to herself, her eyes tracking his every micro-movement. "He's singing for the ones who fight. For the strolls we took in the rain. For the girl who didn't belong."
As Wei reached the bridge of the song, his voice swelling with emotional resonance, the "Unified Alliance" drifted into their own private dimensions.
As the spotlight centered on Wei, Zhao Feng and Wang Shanshan found themselves in the dim perimeter of the ballroom, shielded by a large floral arrangement of white orchids. The lyrics of "Strolling Through Hong Kong 1999"—about a changing world and a love that remains—hit Shanshan like a physical wave, closing her eyes as memories of their secret meetings in the park flashed behind her eyelids.
Shanshan's thought as:"The silver on my dress feels like lead. I am supposed to be the perfect daughter for Wang Ruolan, the girl who marries a CEO and plays the piano at charity galas. But as Wei sings, all I can feel is the warmth of Feng's hand near mine. He doesn't have a title, he doesn't have a legacy... he just has a heart that beats for me. If I let go of his hand now, I'm stepping back into the cage. I can't go back. I won't."
Feng felt her trembling. He didn't look at her—that would be too dangerous—but his pinky finger hooked into hers, a silent anchor.
Feng's thoughts :"Look at this room. Gold, marble, and silk. I'm a Striver; I'm supposed to hate this. But looking at her in the moonlight of the spotlight, I realize I don't hate the wealth—I hate the wall it builds around her. Wei-ge is singing about a stroll through a city that's changing, and I feel like my whole world is shifting right now. I'll fight every Gold Circle guard in this city to keep her smiling like that."
Near the refreshment table, Zhang Hao and Xu Ling stood so close that their shadows merged into one on the polished floor. The nostalgia of the song made the present moment feel fragile, like glass about to shatter.
Hao's thoughts :"My father is ten feet away, talking about the next quarter's earnings. He sees me as a chess piece. But when I look at Ling... I see a future that isn't written in a ledger. Her eyes are reflecting the spotlight on Wei, but I know she's thinking of the rainy afternoon we shared in the library. I'm a Zhang, but tonight, I'd trade every cent of that name just to keep this one minute of peace with her. I'm not scared of the 'Unified Alliance' anymore. I'm scared of a life without her."
Ling leaned her head just an inch closer to his shoulder, the scent of his expensive cologne mixing with the smell of the banquet's lilies.
Ling's Thoughts:"I'm just a girl from the 'other side' of the tracks. I'm the top student who was supposed to focus only on books. But Hao... he makes the books come alive. He makes me feel like I'm not just a 'Striver' but a person. As Wei-ge sings, I feel like we're in a movie, and for once, the ending doesn't have to be sad. I'll follow him anywhere, even if it's into the middle of this ballroom to face the lions."
Even the "Four Statues"—Jia, Bo, Dong, and Lu We—were pulled into the gravity of the performance. Their anger and confusion were momentarily smoothed over by the sheer charisma Wei exuded. They watched him, mesmerized, realizing that the "Selfish King" had a soul far more complex than the arrogance he wore like a cloak.
Chen Jian leaned back, his wine glass forgotten, a look of grudging respect on his face. "The Gu boy has more power in his voice than I have in my boardroom," he realized.
Gu Jian watched his son with a rare, quiet pride, though his eyes remained sharp, noting the way Wei's gaze flickered between the two girls in the center.
Jiang Rou and Lin Xia stood close together. Rou's hand rested on his wife's waist. They looked at their daughter, Min, seeing the raw love on her face, and then at Wei. A heavy sense of Fate settled over them. They knew their daughter's life had changed forever tonight.
Wei immersed himself in the final chorus. His dance moves were subtle—a tilt of the head, a smooth pivot that made the velvet of his jacket catch the light. He looked at Min, then at Mei, his expression unreadable but intensely intimate.
As the final, lingering note faded into the cavernous hall, the silence returned—but it was no longer heavy with tension. It was heavy with the magic of a shared moment.
The house lights surged back to their full, golden brilliance, shattering the intimate spell Wei had cast.
Wei offered a deep, measured bow, his face unreadable as the elite guests broke into thunderous applause. Wei's father nodded with a stoic pride that masked his inner calculations, while Chen Jian let out a booming "Bravo!" that signaled the official return of social normalcy.
In the sudden brightness, the secret lovers—Feng and Shanshan, Hao and Ling—snapped apart with the synchronized precision of startled birds. They moved into the crowd, putting "safe" distances between them, their faces flushed with the lingering heat of their hidden touches.
Le Mei and Jiang Min were the most radiant. Their eyes were bright, their hearts still vibrating from the lyrics they both claimed as their own. "He did it for us," Mei thought, her silver gown shimmering as she stood taller. "He turned a scandal into a masterpiece."
The "Four Statues"—Jia, Bo, Dong, and Lu Wei—suddenly sprang into action, eager to reclaim their roles as the inner circle. They pushed a massive, three-tiered ivory cake on a rolling gold tray, their voices cutting through the chatter.
"Move aside! Make way for the Birthday Queen!" Chen Bo shouted, his bravado returning as he steered the tray. Li Jia followed closely, her eyes sharp as she scanned for any more "Striver" interference.
The crowd surged toward the centerpiece. Madam Le stepped forward, her regal hand resting on Mei's shoulder, a gesture of absolute possession. "My daughter," she murmured, the words carrying through the hush. "It's time."
The band struck up a grand, orchestral rendition of the birthday song. Everyone clapped in rhythm. Mei picked up the silver knife, her movements graceful and slow. She leaned over the glowing candles, their flickering light reflecting in her diamond tiara. With a soft, silent wish—"Let him look at me like that forever"—she blew them out.
As Mei sliced the first piece and fed it to her mother with a respectful bow, the room was a whirlwind of flashes and cheers.
Gu Wei watched the spectacle from the edge of the circle. He saw the "Face" being restored, the parents smiling, and Mei playing the role of the perfect heiress. A shadow of weariness crossed his face. Without a word, he turned and slipped through the heavy velvet curtains, vanishing from the golden light.
Jiang Min, clapping politely at the back of the crowd, noticed the shift in the air immediately. Her "Warrior" instincts were tuned to him like a compass. She looked at the center—Mei was laughing, surrounded by the Gold Circle parents—but Wei's midnight-blue blazer was gone.
A second later, Le Mei noticed it too. Even as she fed a piece of cake to a praising auntie, her eyes darted to the spot where Wei had stood. Her heart sank. "Not again,"she thought. "Always leaving when the world is watching."
Min followed the cool draft of air. She passed the tall French windows and spotted a figure on the darkened balcony. She pushed the glass door open, the humid Shanghai night air hitting her face, a sharp contrast to the filtered, perfume-heavy air inside.
Wei was leaning against the stone balustrade, his back to the ballroom. He was staring at the full moon, which hung over the city like a pale, silver coin. The moonlight softened the sharp lines of his suit, making him look less like a "Selfish King" and more like a boy lost in thought.
Min stepped onto the balcony, her red dress rustling softly against the stone.
"The star of the show shouldn't be hiding in the dark," she said softly, leaning on the wall a few feet away from him.
Wei didn't turn around, but a small, tired smile tugged at his lips. "The stars are inside, Min-Min. Out here, it's just the moon. And it's much quieter."
Jiang Min leaned against the cold stone balustrade, mirroring Gu Wei's posture. But while he was anchored to the lunar horizon, her gaze was anchored entirely on him. She rested her chin on her hand, her eyes shimmering with a raw, unfiltered affection that she could no longer hide behind her "Warrior" shield.
Wei felt the weight of her stare. He slowly turned, a faint, playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face, or have you finally realized how handsome I am?"
Min didn't look away. She pretended to ponder, her finger tapping her chin. "I was just wondering... what a truly selfish person like you could possibly do next. You saved the group, you sang for the crowd, and then you ran away. It's a very strange kind of selfishness."
Wei chuckled, a low, melodic sound that drifted through the open window. Inside the shadows of the heavy velvet curtains, Le Mei froze. She had slipped away from the cake-cutting to find him, only to find him with her. Jealousy flared in Mei's chest—a sharp, stinging eating vinegar that made her breath hitch. She pressed herself against the wall, listening.
"So, you heard that from Mei, did you?" Wei asked, his voice softening.
Min nodded, standing up straight. Wei turned fully toward her now, his midnight-blue blazer catching the moonlight. "It's true. I am selfish. I like to orchestrate things, to pull the strings so that everyone finds their happy ending... and then I disappear from the very moments I created."
Mei, hiding behind the curtain, felt a pang of confusion. What is he saying?
"But why?" Min asked, stepping closer. "Why can't you just stay? Why can't you be part of the happiness you build?"
Wei looked back at the moon, his expression clouding with a sudden, heavy melancholy. "Because of the guilt, Min. To make everyone peaceful, I manipulate situations. I manipulate people. I play God with your lives because I think I know best. I create joy out of lies and schemes. I don't feel I have the right to stand in the light of the happiness that I manufactured."
Both Mei and Min felt sadness of Wei , their heart sank in his sadness .
Min felt a wave of maternal tenderness for this "King" who felt like a fraud. She reached out, her fingers slowly closing around his hand. Wei didn't pull away; he looked down at their joined hands, his shoulders dropping as if a great weight had been lifted.
"What are you two doing out here in the dark?"
Le Mei stepped onto the balcony, her silver dress flashing like a warning signal. Her smile was bright, but her eyes were cold with possessive fire. Min immediately retracted her hand, her face flushing a deep crimson, while Wei simply straightened his jacket.
"Admiring the moon, Mei," Wei said, his voice returning to its calm, neutral mask.
"It is beautiful tonight, isn't it?" Mei said, stepping between them and looking up. Min fumed silently, her "Warrior" spirit screaming at the interruption.
Suddenly, a loud boom echoed over the Shanghai skyline. A burst of brilliant peony-shaped fireworks exploded in the sky—vibrant reds, shimmering golds, and deep purples. The three of them stood in a row, the light of the explosions reflecting in their eyes. For a moment, the rivalry and the sadness were forgotten, replaced by the fleeting beauty of the fire.
Inside, at the high window, Madam Le, Gu Jian, Jiang Rou, and Lin Xia stood with their wine glasses. They watched the three silhouettes on the balcony.
"Our children have grown up," Madam Le murmured, her gaze lingering on how Wei stood between the two girls. The four parents sensed it—the heavy, complicated scent of love and destiny hanging in the night air.
But the peace was a lie.
Down in the ballroom, the elite were still laughing, plates of cake in hand. Lu Wei was the first to notice something wrong. He spotted three small, metallic canisters rolling across the marble floor, hissing softly.
"Dong! Look at that!" Lu Wei shouted, pointing.
Dong bent down, his brow furrowed. "What is—"
Before he could finish, a thick, acrid white smoke erupted from the canisters. It flooded the room in seconds.
"Cough! What is this?" Chen Bo yelled, clutching his throat.
The smoke wasn't just a screen; it was a sedative. One by one, the "Four Statues," the couples, and the wealthy elite began to wobble. Their eyes glazed over, their knees buckled, and the grand ballroom became a graveyard of unconscious bodies.
On the balcony, the three leads were still looking at the fireworks, unaware that the world behind them had just gone silent.